


Forging a New Future

by Luthorchickv2



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Gaston's dead, Lefou gets a happy ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-20 05:38:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10656021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthorchickv2/pseuds/Luthorchickv2
Summary: LeFou needs to figure out who he is without Gaston. Along the way he finds new friends and skills and maybe he might find someone who loves him back.





	1. Beginning Anew

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to rename LeFou to Jean Lefurgey which Gaston shortened to Le Fou. The end game here is LeFou/Stanley but really this is an excuse for me to explore Le Fou and dive deeper. Let me know what you think!

Lefou wasn't there when they found Gaston's body but he wasn't surprised. He had known, deep down on the way to the Castle that he and Gaston were in too deep and it was only going to end in tears. He had known that when he and Gaston had left Maurice tied to a tree in wolf infested woods. 

So he wasn't surprised when Belle and Mrs. Potts pulled him aside after the battle and told him gently. He waited for the sharp flood of grief to hit but in the end Gaston had been so different from the man Lefou had loved that all he felt was a resigned sadness. He thanked them and wondered who he would be now. He had been Gaston's Lefou for so long that he no longer remembered how to be Jean Lefurgey, son of the town’s late smith.

Jean wasn't expecting anyone to show when he buried Gaston but Belle and the Prince were waiting at the small chapel and walked with him to the small plot outside the village wall. It was a quiet spot that over looked the village and mountains and Jean thought Gaston would be at peace here.

Belle and Adam also accompanied him back to his and Gaston's lodgings after.  
He went throughh the motions of making tea and serving them, keeping himself busy so he wouldn't see the pity in their eyes.

When he finally did sit down with them it was he that broke the silence.

"I am so very sorry, Belle. For what I helped do to your father. I knew it was wrong and had he died I never would have been able to forgive myself. I am even sorrier that I didn't side with him when he returned." He said in one breath staring at a spot over her left shoulder. The wall paper was peeling, he noted absently. 

"Lefou." She started but he raised his hand to interrupt. "Jean. My name is Jean. Lefou was Gaston's nasty little name for me." She stared at him for a beat and extended her hand. "It's nice to meet you Jean. I'm Belle."

He took her hand in shock and for the first time since leaving Maurice in the first Jean felt some measure of peace.

"Thank you, Belle" The silence that followed was comfortable.

Belle and the Prince seemed to be having a silent but emphatic conversation involving eyes and hand motions and Jean tried to give them privacy by looking around the room and mentally packing. Without Gaston he wouldn't be able to afford the rent on his soldier’s pension. Gaston had been an officer with an officer’s pension. Jean had merely been a foot soldier and his pension reflected that.

"Jean?" Belle’s voice broke through his musings.

"Hm?" He shifted his attention back to her.

"Do you know what you are going to do now?"

"I have no idea. I was Gaston's for so long I don't know if I can be anything else. But I'll figure it out. I can take care of myself." He hoped. He gave her a small reassuring smile. It was kind of her to ask, but Belle had always been kind.

 

Belle sat forward. "I am sure you can. Your actions during that battle reflect that." She said.

Jean shrugged. "Maybe."

Bella leaned forward. "I'd like you to stay with us at the castle while you figure it out."

"Belle?" He was shocked. He dropped his tea cup and was absently glad it wasn’t Chip. 

"You saved Mrs. Potts and fought on our side. I imagine though it ended well the villagers might resent that. You need a place away from them and away from here. Somewhere where you can be other than Gaston's shadow." He went to object, even though it would solve the where he was going to live now question, he couldn't accept. He had no right.

“Belle, that is very kind of you but I couldn’t possibly accept.” He reached out and patted her hand. 

She turned her hand up and grabbed his. “Jean, I know what it is to be different.“ 

She paused staring at his face. His heart plummeted and he opened his mouth to deny but then stopped. If she knew of his preferences and still invited him to stay with them then clearly it didn’t matter to her.

She waited for him to work through his panic before continuing. “I know what it is to be different and to need more. I found my place and I want to help you find yours.” She smiled at him. “And if you don’t agree, Mrs. Potts might come marching down here to drag you to the castle. You made quite an impression on her.” She released his hand. “Let me help you, please.”

Jean glanced at the Prince who had been silently watching.

Adam smiled. “I’ve learned not to get in Belle’s way when she wants something. But I agree. You need time and peace and we can provide that. “

Jean swallowed and gave the smallest nod. “Thank you for your kindness. I will be happy to stay at the castle. But I have one condition. If I ever get to be too much or my presence becomes a burden, please let me know so I can make other arrangements.”

“Very well but you’ll see Jean. It will be just what you need.” Belle stood and Jean scrambled to stand as well. Belle linked their arms together. “I think you and I will be great friend, Jean. Now let’s go let the footmen know that they can start packing up.”

Jean just stared at her before smiling. “You are a very strange girl, Belle, but I couldn’t be more grateful for that.”


	2. Unpacking Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean settles into the Castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I increased the chapter count by 1. Jean's insisiting on a proper past and not just a present and future. Next chapter should be up soon.

Within two days Jean was packed and moved. He arrived at the castle by horseback, belongings following in a carriage. Belle met him at the steps and personally showed him to a suite of rooms on the second floor of the west wing, smirking as she did so.

"When I first came here the west wing was strictly forbidden. It was where the Beast lived. Adam still lives in rooms above yours by several floors. I was astonished to see the amount of rooms that were uncovered when the Spell was broken." She gestured to the suite. 

"These were just one set uncovered. There were whole floors added to the east wing. Adam said that they were all there before the Spell, that somehow the Spell caused the castle to shrink? Or rooms were closed off by damage when a petal fell. My father and I are in the east wing. The servants’ quarters reopened off the kitchen and Madame Garderobe and Mr. Cadenza live in an apartment on the 3rd floor of the east wing. They have mostly been keeping to themselves."

Jean was only partly paying attention to her as he gaped at the suite. He had never had this much space before. The suite was separated into two rooms. The main room was a sitting room/study with 2 large windows and a door off one side. There was a pleasant little sitting area with chairs a small sitting area and a settee in front of a grand fireplace. In front of one window was a sturdy but beautiful wooden desk and shelves. In front of the other window was a little dining area with a table and chairs and side table.

Jean moved into the room and stood by the dining table. The window overlooked the formal gardens and he could just make out the forest on the other side.

He ran his fingers on the top of the dining table and for a moment let himself imagine he and Gaston sitting there at the table over breakfast. They would share a pot of coffee and flirt while looking out the window planning the day's hunt. He could almost smell the coffee.

But no. Gaston was dead and even if he weren't what Jean had imagined would never come to pass. It was torture to imagine otherwise. Jean opened his eyes and moved away from the table, back to Belle.

"Belle, it’s too much just for me. I love it but I'd be happy with just a room."

Belle grinned and walked him over to the door pushing it open to reveal the most sumptuous bed Jean had ever seen. He barely noted anything else in the room so enthralled was he with the enormous four poster bed that dominated the middle of the room. He had never even seen a bed that big. The posts were wide and round and looked like tree trunks stretching up. The mattress was high off the ground and was covered in a dark blue feather quilt and looked incredibly soft.

"You know what, Belle? I changed my mind. This room is perfect for me." He shot her a grin and threw himself on the bed.

It was as heavenly as it looked. He sunk into in and immediately relaxed. He was never leaving this bed. It was his home now.

Belle's giggles disturbed him and he rolled over to playfully glare at her.

"I'm sure you did the same thing." He teased, stretching to cover as much of the bed as possible, never mind all the social rules he was breaking by lying on a bed in a room alone with a girl. Not that Belle was in danger from him.

"No. It might have been if I had arrived here differently." She was quiet now, a little sad. Though she and Adam were happy now, the trauma of being wrenched out of her life and denied her family and freedom lingered.

Jean gave himself one moment longer to bond with the bed before extracting himself and returning to Belle to put his hand on her shoulder.

They stood there in silence for a moment before she shook off the melancholy. "Come. I'll show you around the Castle. The footmen will bring up your things and you can unpack them later." She moved to the door to the suite.

Jean turned back to the bed and pointed. "I'm not done with you, yet." He ignored the ghost of Gaston in his mind saying those same words and followed Belle out of his rooms.

She led him through the Castle to the dining room, kitchen and library. He was less excited by the library then he was the kitchen, but he was amused by Belle's adoration of it. In the kitchen he and Belle were corralled by Ms. Potts and all but force fed tea and sandwiches. The sandwiches were the best food he had ever tasted and he couldn't wait for dinner.

After the tour Belle left him at his door with instructions on when to meet for dinner. He agreed but extended a hand to keep her from leaving.

“I’d like to contribute something towards my keep. My pension isn’t much and certainly wouldn’t cover all of this,” He gestured to the room. “But it would be something?”

Belle just shook her head. “Thank you Jean for offering but you are an invited guest. Besides” she paused. “Adam told me a little of his behavior before the curse and how he greedily over taxed the area. You could stay for months and it would still be less then what he took from the village.” She smiled at him. “Save your money, that way when you decide what to do, you will have a head start.”

With that she left Jean alone in his rooms.

He couldn’t get over it, his rooms. They were finer than anything he had ever even been in, let alone lived in. His father’s smithy, while not a source of great wealth, made just enough for the family to survive and little else. His mother had brought in a little extra income by mending and embroidering but given the small size of the village the work was never plentiful. Jean had shared a room a room with his parents until he the age of 15 and then he slept in the smithy.

When he was younger he had wanted to be a blacksmith like his father. He spent most of his youth and young adulthood bent over a forge and had been content with his life until Gaston. Gaston had swept into town the stepson of the newly re-married mayor and change Jean's life. 

Only a year or two older, Gaston had been the most beautiful person Jean had ever seen. Not quite full grown into the broad frame he would later have, Gaston stood out from the drabness of the village. He was color and excitement and Jean, who had wondered why girls did interest him the way they did other boys, fell hard. 

He then understood that he was different and different in a way that was dangerous. He tried to avoid the handsome young man until Gaston had wandered into the smithy looking to get something repaired. Jean had fumbled and tripped over the anvil to the sound of Gaston laughing. As he lay there frozen with humiliation Gaston had stood over him and extended a hand. 'Lefou, then.' He had helped Jean up and spent the rest of the afternoon with Jean making a general nuisance of himself. 

And that had been that. Jean started answering to Lefou and shirking his responsibilities to the smithy. It was only natural then, when the army called out for officers and recruits that he followed Gaston to battle.

Jean shook himself out of his memories. Looking back he was ashamed at how easily led he had been. Gaston had been his whole world, something not even the deaths of his parents could change. 

They would be flabbergasted to see him now., living in a fine castle and on speaking terms with a Prince and soon to be Princess.

He still wasn't sure what he was doing here but it seems he was wanted so he made himself unpack.

He started with his own things, not that he had many. Some clothing, a box of his parents’ belongings that had been given to him when he returned to the village to find another family living in the smithy, and Gaston's things. The footmen had put his small amount of clothing away in a clothes press that Jean hadn't seen in the bedroom but had left everything else alone.

Jean started with his parent's things. He hadn't gone through it when it was given to him, to over whelmed but now he was ready. he hefted up and carried it over to the desk before opening it. On the very top were his mother's hand tatted lace linens and tablecloths. Jean raised them to his face and inhaled. The very faintly smiled of the apartment above the smithy and the lavender scent his father had given his wife. Jean had spent the hours he wasn't in the smithy with his father watching his mother sew or embroider. His mother had tried to teach him but he did have the skill for it. He could do very basic mends and alternations which had served him well in the army but he had never been able to recreate the beautiful stitches and patterns his mother had so effortlessly produced.

He held the linens and waited for the grief to hit him but while he felt a little sadness he mostly felt love and happiness at the memories. Clearly time had helped dull the sharp edge of grief and guilt he had felt. He set the linens aside. Beneath was the cornflower blue quilt that had lain on his parents bed. That he set aside to drape over his new bed.

Under the quilt were 4 place settings of china, quite his mother’s pride and joy. They were white with delicate blue flowers along the edge, which now he was looking at them reminded him a bit of Mrs. Potts in tea pot shape. He wouldn't the place settings here and would repack them along with the linens.

Next to the places settings was his mother's trinket box. His On the top were his parents’ weddings rings. He wondering why they weren't buried with them but dismissive the thought. Whatever the reason it was too late to do anything about it now.

Under were a couple of the bracelets and rings his father had made for his mother. Most of it crudely fashions, constructed from left over meta but she mother had gushed over them as if they were solid gold and encrusted with jewels. He supposed it was the thought and effort that counted. He smiled and set the box on one the shelves next to the desk. He couldn't wear any of the pieces but he didn't want to forget them.

The box was almost empty now. Just one last box that covered the bottom of the trunk. In this in found his mother’s silver brush and mirror set, her prized possessions. She had inherited them from her family and even when things got right money wise she could never bring herself to sell them. He was glad for that now. Having them was a real connection to her and her family whom he had never met.

Trunk empty now he repacked the place settings, linens and lace. As a whim he pulled one of the handkerchiefs what had been embroidered around the edges with a roses. That he would give to Belle with his gratitude for her aid and friendship. The trunk then got placed at the foot of his new bed. It looked laughingly small and awkward next to such fine furnishings, much like him.

Jean turned to the trunks of Gaston's things and decided he wasn't up to dealing with them. He had done quite enough and that could wait.

He stood in the finest rooms he had ever seen, rooms that were to be his for the time being and all the sudden it hit him like a fist. He was alone for the first time, truly alone. Growing up he had his parents and then Gaston. There had been times on campaign when he had been separated from Gaston because of their rank but Gaston had still been there. But now his parents were gone and so was Gaston. His future stretched out in front of him a lonely bleak stretch of nothingness. He couldn’t stay in the castle indefinitely but had no idea what to do or where to go. He stumbled into the bedroom and curled up on the bed. Overwhelmed by grief and loneliness Jean let go and sobbed.


	3. Next Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean explores and comes to a decision. Stanley visits the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The horse Luke Evens rode in the movie is actually named Magnifique. I wrote Stanley like this based on how he inserts himself into Lefou's dance. He's more forward. Also comments are incredibly helpful for me as so much I'm writing on background and character I'm creating. Giving me feedback helps me to know that I am on the right track.

Three days later he was still getting lost around the Castle. He could get from his rooms to the main door outside and to the kitchens and dining rooms but everything else eluded him. He had stumbled upon the dungeons which made him feel vaguely sick. How brave Belle had been to make the decision to stay in this dark place. He quickly backed out of there and learned to avoid them.

Jean wasn't used to having this much time to himself and not having an occupation, even if it was just to be Gaston's right hand and he felt vaguely unsettled to not be doing something. He also needed distraction from missing Gaston. The man had never treated him right or returned his love but still Jean missed him, even after Gaston had left him mid-battle.

So he explored his new home. He climbed towers, explored wings and walked across what looked to be perilous walkways. It was while he was crossing one such walkway when he realized that Gaston must have fallen from on just like it and he quickly reached the end and hadn't crossed one since. He also avoided a certain inner courtyard. He knew there would be no evidence of what had happened but he just couldn't stand it.

The first night he lived in the castle he ate dinner with Belle, Adam and Maurice. Still feeling raw from his crying episode, he had pulled on his best clothes and still felt too shabby. He had gathered his courage and found the dining room. He had been about to enter when he saw Maurice standing there and his courage failed. He had wanted to turn around but Belle had guided him into the room and to her father and introduced him as Jean. Maurice had solemnly shaken his hand. Jean waited for Belle to wander over to Adam before trying to apologize to Maurice. Maurice just smiled and told him that he had heard Gaston's threat to have Jean locked up next and while it might take him a while, he could forgive. Jean understood then where Belle had inherited her kindness.

The meal was a little awkward and Jean feel distinctly out of place. Belle and Adam were so in love. They kept trying to involve Maurice and Jean, but inevitably turned back to each other leaving Maurice and Jean in awkward silence. There were more eating utensils on the table then Jean had realized existed and he floundered for a bit until Belle had caught his eye. She raised each of her utensils when she used them just high enough for him to see but that no one else did. The food was so good he was able to ignore it for the most part but after, he had taken Mrs. Potts aside and asked if he might eat in his rooms. He would even come down and get the food from the kitchen himself. She had puffed up with indignation before calming and telling him that while he might eat in his room in no circumstances was he to get it himself. He thanked her and apologized for the extra work then let her shoo him out of the kitchen.

That arrangement hadn’t lasted long. Mrs. Potts told Luminaire, who told Cogsworth who told the Prince who told Belle. The next night, rather than have dinner in the formal dining room, it was served in a much smaller room and was made optional though Belle had requested his presence at three dinners a week. ‘It’s not a demand or a condition of you living here and you can say no. I just don’t want you to get lost in your grief.” She had said. Jean was touched and agreed to at least 3 dinners. Breakfast he ate in his rooms.

This morning Jean decided he was going to visit his horse and start exploring the grounds. Belle had assured him that the wolves who had run wild in the woods had disappeared with the spell so it was perfectly safe. He grabbed a satchel and went to the kitchen to beg snacks from Mrs. Potts. She tutted at him but gave him ham sandwiches, apples and a couple squares of cheese before ushering him out the back. Jean grinned and set off to the stable. He felt a little guilty for not visiting Jaq before but trusted he was in good hands.

It turned out the stables by the front staircase were guests stables so that the horses would be ready whenever the guest was ready to leave. The actual castle stables were behind the castle to the left of the lake. The stable buildings were open and airy and his stocky workhorse, Jaq was in the very first stall looking rather content with life.

“Hello, my friend. My, aren’t you living the fine life?” Jean stroked the horse’s face before examining the stall. It was a large box stall with doors facing into the stables and out to the pastures. There was ample hay and water and a sniff hold Jean that the stalls were cleaned regularly. It was a far cry from the village stables which were often full to brimming.

“We landed on our feet, Jaq. Well, hooves, in your case. We have to enjoy it while we can.” He reached into his bag and gave an apple to Jaq who took it happily.

A soft whicker distracted him and he turned to see a large black horse reaching out for him. “Oh Mags.” Jean reached out to pat Gaston’s horse and felt shame. In the last week it had never occurred to him to ask about what happened to Magnifique after the battle. Tending to Mags was once one of his most important duties and the gelding had completely slipped Jean’s mind. He felt relief now to know that the horse had been safe and well taken care of. “It’s okay, Mags. I won’t forget again.”

“Oh, the little miss thought you knew he was here?” Jean jumped and started Mags who jerked his head and snorted. An older man was standing further down the row holding the lead of Belle’s Philippe.

“I’m sorry Monsieur, I didn’t see you.” Jean ran his hand over Mags’ neck to calm him.

“You were wrapped up in Himself there. It’s nice to see someone who appreciates good horseflesh. I’m Étienne, the head groom.” He reached out for Jean’s hand.

Jean shook his hand. “Jean. I own Jaq.” He gestured to the piebald happily munching on hay. “And maybe, Mags?” He wasn’t sure.

“Mags? An odd name for a gelding.”

Jean snorted. “He’s actually Magnifique. His former owner,” Jean had to pause for a second “named him. I got tired of his full name so I shortened it, but never in Gaston’s presence. We’ve been to the wars, haven’t we, friend?” The horse bobbed his head and rested his chin on Jean’s shoulder.

“He trusts you. It must have been you he was pining for.” Étienne lead Philippe into the stall next to Mags’.

“Pining? What have you been up to?” He mock glared at the horse who didn’t batch an eyelash.

“He’s just been sulking, he has. Pining like a weanling after his mom.”

Jean smiled. “He’s been with us for around 4 years now? I’ve been caring for him almost his whole life which makes my conduct completely unacceptable.”

Étienne shook his head. “He was safe and from what the little miss told me you’ve had quite a bit going on.”

Jean signed and leaned in Mags. It was still no excuse.

“I can get his tack for you if you’d like to go for a ride.” Jean shook his head. “I’ll get it if you’ll show me?” Étienne lead the way passed empty stalls to the tack room.

“Is it just you, now?” Jean asked as they walked.

“Once these were the finest stables in the region. We had the best bloodlines and waiting lists for years for stud opportunities. But then the spell hit. It left the horses alone. The boys who were grooms also escaped. I…” Étienne paused. “I was turned into a pitchfork. I didn’t have the arms to care for the horses and we were all so scared of the master. I told the boys to take the horses and run. The master was so furious when he found out. He torn down the whole back of the stables by himself.” He brushed a hand over a name plate. “I hope they are well, where ever they are. The master came down here the day after the spell broke and told me I had free rein to restock as I saw fit and rehire.” They were at the tack room.

Jean didn’t know how to respond so he just patted the man on the shoulder. There had been such loss and while the spell breaking healed most they were somethings it couldn’t heal.

“Himself’s things are there.” He pointed to a familiar set of tack and a box that contained all of Mags’ brushes and wraps. “The sweet piebald’s things are next them.”

Between the two of them, they managed to carry everything in one trip. Jean offered either horse to Étienne to ride but the groom turned him down, saying he had business to attend to. “If you go to the end of the pastures and turn left there is a trail that winds through the woods to open fields. Very hard to get lost.” With that he left Jean for the stable office.

Jaq seemed perfectly happy to doze in his stall so Jean tacked up Mags and headed out. Mags was dancing in place filled with energy. Jean kept him to a walk until they reached the woods and seeing a fairly straight clear path let Mags have his head. The horse leapt into a gallop and together they flew through the woods. Jean had never been an accomplished rider until the war. Strictly speaking enlisted men didn’t ride but because he was Gaston’s attendant and had to keep up with Gaston he had learned and practiced first on Mags and then on his own Jaq.

He let Mags gallop for only a short while before reining him down to a more controlled canter. The woods were a lot less menacing now that the spell was gone and just being outside on horseback calmed him. The fields were right on the other side of the woods and Jean took the opportunity to put Mags through his paces.

They stayed out much of the morning and Jean was happy to share his apple with Mags. He ate his sandwich while Mags grazed and both drank from a clear cool brook.

Maybe he could go back to the army? Surely they would need people to do the everyday tasks? But that would involve leaving the village and the more Jean examined that idea the less he liked it. As he stared out over the fields and hills to the peaks of the Castle towers he realized he didn’t want to leave his home. But what to do? His skill set was limited and the two things he was good at weren’t needed. The village had a smith in the smithy who wasn’t looking to leave and the Prince had no need for another attendant.

He supposed he could go and work for Étienne as a groom but typically those positions were filled by teenagers and it would seem odd for a man of his age. He put that thought aside as a last consideration.

As he steered Mags back to the Castle he did feel a little better, knowing that he wanted to stay. He just needed to figure out how.

They had just arrived back to the stable yard when a voice came out of nowhere and scared Jean almost out of his skin.

“For all he was Gaston’s horse, that brute always behaved best for you.” Stanley was leaning on the well, looking like he had not a care in the world.

“Stanley! What are you doing here?” He swung out of the saddle and slid the reins over Mags’ head.

“I made friends with Madame Garderobe after the battle. She invited me up for tea. After I decided to see how you were doing.” Stanley walked over to help untacking.

Jean wasn’t sure how to answer him. Tom, Dick and Stanley were Gaston’s friends not his. Often he had been the subject of theirs jokes and pranks and now without Gaston he wasn’t sure how to act. “I’m breathing. I miss him of course. And am out of a job. How’s the village?”

Stanley shrugged while sliding a halter onto Mags so Jean could take the bridle off. “The same. Mostly. There are more people now that the spell is broken and people remember. The priest is leaving. I’m not sure what scared him off worse, the mob and what we almost did to Maurice or knowing there is actual magic.” He hefted the saddle off and set it on a rack before Jean could get it.

“I’m sorry for that. He was a good man.” Jean glared for a second at the taller man before grabbing a cloth to wipe Mags’ down. Stanley just smirked in reply.

“No one blames you, Lefou.” Jean stilled for a moment before continuing.

“I mean in case you were worried about that.” Stanley continued. “Everyone knows it was all Gaston and something about that night. He was out of control and no one could see it until then. And no one blames you for changing sides. Not after he threatened to throw you in an asylum and then left you to be crushed.” He walked around Mag’s until he faced Jean.

“Jean.” He finally said. Stanley looked confused.

“What?”

“My name is Jean, not Lefou even if in the end I was” Jean turned from Stanley.

“Jean. You know it didn’t even occur to me that Lefou wasn’t your name? And are we not all fools, when in love?”

Jean would swear later that his heart actually stopped. Fear creep though his veins like ice.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He forced from his lips while trying to figure out an escape plan. He would not be thrown in an asylum or chased out of town.

“Jean. Stop.” Stanley’s arms wrapped around him to still him. He hadn’t even known he was shaking. “It’s alright. No one is after you.” Stanley hushed.

Jean forced himself to breathe and eventually calmed.

“I didn’t think anyone knew.”

Stanley scoffed. “You are many things Jean but subtle isn’t one.”

“Why did no one throw me out?” He stepped out from the comfort on Stanley’s arms ignoring how nice it had felt to feel those strong arms around him.

“Well partly because no one wanted to cross Gaston and partly because who did it hurt? He was dead set on Belle and flirted with everything in a skirt. We all knew nothing would come of it.” Stanley stepped away giving Jean space.

They went back to grooming Mags in silence. Jean couldn’t stop thinking. Mrs Potts knew, Belle knew and if Belle knew the Prince knew. Stanley knew. Well a lot more people knew but no one hated him or thought him evil. They had in fact been kind to him. It was a new feeling for Jean. And maybe he could talk about it/

“I’m so embarrassed.” He whispered as he ran a brush over Mags.

“Don’t be. You were in love and saw nothing else. He was the one who treated you poorly.” Stanley didn’t look at Jean but kept brushing his side.

“You know during the battle, when I changed sides Mrs. Potts told me I deserved better? It didn’t hit me until after that she knew and was okay about it. Belle too. They were both so very kind when they came to tell me.”

“You do deserve better and I’m sorry for taking part in Gaston’s games.” Jean shook his head.

“It’s okay. Part of being here is to help me discover who I am without him. I’ve been his so long.” Stanley stopped and extended his hand.

"Well Jean, I look forward to seeing find out. Mde Garderobe invited me back next week for tea. I'll come visit with you again." Stanley said. "Just remember Jean, you aren't the only one is different." With that Stanley spun on his heel and strolled out of the yard.

"Wait." Jean shouted. "What does that even mean?" Stanley's chuckles floated back.

"See you next week." He flashed a smile leaving Jean standing there confused.


End file.
